


Poems of a teenage dyke

by Wenesday_Addams



Category: Original Work
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Original Songs, Poems, Poems I wrote, Songs, and summaries, and tiles, lgbtq+
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18071261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wenesday_Addams/pseuds/Wenesday_Addams
Summary: I'm gay and I write poems here. So don't @ me for the title





	1. City creatures and Long nights of artists

There is an angel who loiters outside of a liquor store  
All eyes and wings, darkness drips from her like honey  
She tells me stories in exchange for tootsie pops and cigarettes  
Talking of times long past

A demon dances in the rain at the local park  
Flowers intermingle with horns, and a tail with fairy-lights wrapped around it  
He rejects his nature, and it tortures him  
He only wishes to be himself, but hell won’t allow it

A girl walks by, all bright eyes and cheery smiles  
But they are fake, hollow and empty lies  
She spends the nights scratching at her skin  
Puts on makeup everyday to hide it, so no-one asks

Mages travel amongst the crowds   
Magic crackling from their fingertips  
Shocking men whose hands are too low on a woman's waist  
And causing colourful sparks to fly for the delight of small children

Goblins slip through the subway  
Pickpocketing those who are too distracted to watch their wallets and bags  
Slipping coins in the cups of the homeless  
And causing stock market fluctuations

Fairies rule the courts   
Finding loopholes and have clients sign their children away  
Drawing up contracts and counting the costs for their services  
Far more valuable than sugar and salt  
Speaking with silver tongues to get the verdict they want

Writers are the ones who stay up at night  
Eyes with shadows as black as the void, and fingertips stained with ink  
Creating worlds confined to a notebook  
Carrying universes inside their minds  
Hearing the whispers of those they’ve birthed inside their heads

Artists are the ones who bring imagination to life  
With paint splattered jeans and brushes in back pockets  
Making fur look soft to the touch, and dreams tangible  
Bringing the ideas of others in visibility

Musicians are the ones who can enchant entire crowds  
Fingertips and throats, red and raw   
Staying up until 6 am trying to get the music out  
Letting it flow and the neighborhood is at peace  
Silence drives them mad

Dancers are ones who are always on their feet  
Toenails cracked and bleeding from staying on them too long  
Movements casting a spell on anyone who watches  
Closing their eyes, and going to their own world  
Dancing only for themselves even if everyones watching

The city glows at night  
While the wealthy retreat indoors, it vents hot air and opens up abandoned subways for those who cannot go home  
Refusing to let the people carry on as normal until potholes are fixed  
Brings abandoned and kicked out children to the homeless shelter  
It sighs, worn out and tired  
Longing for its former glory

I vomit my heart into poems late at night  
Blood drips from the pages instead of ink   
Every morning I shove my heart back into the empty cavity it leaves  
When someone goes to read it I shout “No! Don’t touch it!”  
They can never see what’s inside


	2. A poem for the sky and the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a poem I wrote while staring at the sky on my way to get plants

When the rain stops; the clouds break through  
The sun shines a bit too brightly  
And it hurts to look at the sky

And the clouds aren't exactly white  
They're varying shades of grey  
With the tops pure white; harsh and glaring, blinding to look at  
Where the bottoms are blueish grey  
Soft and saturated 

Sometimes you can even see rays of sunshine through the mist  
And when the fog rolls over the hills; it makes me think   
Of Scottish highlands and wishes to be free

When it rains; dark grey and dreary   
When everyone heads inside; I step out  
And I dance , water covering me from head to toe  
Little bullets that do me no harm, that bring life to the trees and plants

What others hate or just ignore, I cannot help but to see the beauty in  
In the clouds that look like puff of cotton candy or freshly fallen snow  
When the rain turns the gutters to rivers, and parks into ponds  
Something that we look up everyday and see, then forget about it  
Or chant a little nursery rhyme wishing it to go away

The sky is beautiful; do not forget that


	3. Poor little angel

Poor little angel  
Covered in sin and no longer holy  
Whatever are you going to do?  
Walk the streets with a broken halo and burnt wings?  
Because the streets, my dear, will eat you up

Something like that  
For the lord is no longer my shepard  
And I am not a sheep  
Like you said  
My wings are burnt and my halo is broken  
I'm covered in sin and no longer holy  
So, why not?  
After all, you seem to know your way around here

I'm a demon, my dear  
The streets are my home  
Where chaos reigns, and anarchy runs amok  
Is where I feel comfortable  
I broke my halo into horns, and ripped my feathers out myself  
The streets welcomed me with open arms  
Lets see if they do the same for you

We'll see  
I've marched through the armies of hell  
How bad can the streets be?

Oh, angel you have no idea


	4. My fellow LGBTQ+ people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Let it be known that homosexuals are not cowards" -Willem Arondeus 8/22/1894 – 7/1/1943

My fellow LGBTQ+ people  
We live in a very dangerous time  
I say this because our rights are being stripped away  
And I am angry  
Angry that the administration who is supposed to protect us isn’t  
That they are selling shirts that read LGBTQ + for Trump  
While trans people can’t serve  
And lesbians and gays cannot adopt

They want to keep our children from being citizens  
That's right they want to violate and destroy the constitution  
Make it so we can never stay in our home  
Even though we belong here  
Even though we have fought and bled for this country  
“They gave me a medal for killing two men, and a discharge for loving one.”  
Remember that? I do

They say that we’re lucky  
Because while we may have a president who strips our rights away  
At least we’re not stoned to death  
But how long till it is simply a crime to be gay?  
How long until we feel poison flowing through our veins while strapped to a table  
Simply for loving someone of the same sex?

In Iran we are trapped in the wrong body  
Forced into government funded Sex-Reassignment surgery  
Just to survive without risking death  
Face the truth  
We may not have to go through electroshock  
But this is still Conversion therapy

My brothers and sisters who remember Stonewall  
Who remember Harvey Milk and the Riots after his death  
We know how you felt  
To my brothers and sisters who went through the AIDS crisis  
We understand your isolation  
Because Pulse is still fresh  
I feel every bullet that pierced their flesh  
And their cries for help still ring in my ears

My heart weeps for those in Chechnya  
Forced into camps that are no better that the gulags of old  
Or to flee on a modern day Underground Railroad  
They kill us, and the world turns a blind eye  
We protest and they call us violent  
Or say we don’t even exist

Straight people  
Yes I’m talking to you  
I have something to say and I will not let my words fall on deaf ears  
Or let you turn away from this  
Because there are things you need to understand

Do we not get to be violent?  
After all we have suffered, do we not get to be angry?  
Watching ourselves being portrayed as evil and wrong  
Being pushed around, spit on, beaten up, and having slurs thrown  
Do we not get to yell, and scream, and say that we are unhappy?  
Or do we have to sit still, and just smile and take it?

Because we can be treated as nothing more than an accessory  
Where do you think the term “Gay Best Friend” came from  
Or the stereotype that gay men are feminine  
And lesbians just want to have sex with any woman  
And that trans people will assault your children in bathrooms

Let us be angry  
You are taking our celebrations of ourselves and achievements  
Twisting and turning them into simple music festivals  
Homophobes are going to Pride  
Because they want to see their favorite artists

A nine year old boy was killed for coming out to his parents  
And a teenage girl was raped by her own father to “turn her straight”  
And you wonder why we hate “What would you do if this was your child”  
Or “I’m not homophobic. I have gay friends”  
We are not a tool for your “Woke” status or to gain followers

You have never suffered under the threat of Death  
Or when simply being yourself means getting thrown in jail  
You have never wondered when your basic right to marry will be taken away  
After a cartoon episode refused to be aired  
Because it had a same sex wedding on it

So let us scream. Let us yell and be ugly  
We have struggled to gain the simplest rights  
And we will not watch them be stripped away  
After all if you wanted us to be nice  
You should not have slaughtered the nice ones

* * *

[Here's](https://lgbtnet.org/en) a link you can use to donate to the Russian LGBT network

 


	5. Darkness is a gift

_“Someone once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this was a gift too.”_

_— Mary Oliver_

Because darkness is a gift  

It’s what makes us human 

Too much light is harsh and cruel

 

We think of light as being kind and gentle

When in fact it is the opposite

Light is harsh and cruel, and does not understand mercy

Darkness is warm, forgiving and comforting

Mix the two and you get grey

Enough light and enough darkness

Warm yet cold, forgiving yet cruel, soft yet harsh, comforting yet merciless

That is humanity 

That is what makes us human

Some of us have more light

Some of us have more dark

In the end; whatever we have is a gift


	6. Free Free Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original blues song I wrote while watching Netflix’s doc on Robert Johnson. It’s the Devil at the Crossroads if I remember correctly

Oh I don’t want no man beside me  
Don’t want no children to hold me back  
Big man comes to tell me what to do with my body  
So I go and get on the tracks

Get my guitar and ride away  
Gonna play all day  
So I can be free  
Free free free  
Free from my mother’s pain

I got no children to return to  
Not a husband at home  
And I’m fine just fine  
Cause I’m free

Yes I said I was free   
Free free free  
Free from my mother’s pain  
Free to be me


	7. Don't blink

I've always been scared of graveyards  
Not necessarily graveyards themselves  
But more of the statues in them  
The lifelike ones are the worst  
I feel like their eyes are always on me  
As if I have to keep watching them or they'll move  
It's not just graveyard statues  
Any statues of people are under this fear  
Though I feel safer for the ones in public  
At least their being watched  
It's irrational I know  
Believe me I've questioned myself many times   
Just a child's fear isn't it?  
Though late at night I can't help but think  
What if it is real?   
What if the only reason most statues don't move is because there's always some form of eyes watching them?   
I am now too scared to go to sleep at night   
My nightmares are filled with statues reaching towards me   
With their brass limbs and lifeless eyes  
I wake up in a cold sweat   
Screaming  
I can never take my eyes off them  
For fear that they'll move  
Sometimes out of the corner of my eye I swear they do  
This is my warning to you all.   
Because I don't know how much longer I can stay awake.   
So whatever you do count the shadows and Don't Blink.


	8. Return to Nature

Let grass grow from my feet and flowers bloom in my ribcage

My skull to become a nest for birds and the worms to burrow into my limbs

Let me become one with nature once more

For I wish for the roots of a great old oak tree to encircle my bones

I wish for daises to grow in my eye sockets

And for a spiders web between my fingers

And for the mouring dew to cling to my bones

For I was borne of nature

And I wish to return to it


	9. Fuck Your Straight Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this after the lesbian couple was attacked on a bus for refusing to be a group of guys fucking entertainment

Fuck your straight pride  
These words may seem harsh but there is meaning behind them  
There is reason I say them  
Because I am tired of your meaningless demands  
Tired of having to sit still and watch as my very existence is fetishized

I have spoken with people who remember how revolutionary it was when Ellen came out  
When Stonewall happened, and Harvey Milk was elected  
I remember the relief I felt when we were finally able to marry  
Despite not knowing my own sexuality yet  
I have seen, heard, and read about every drop of blood that we spilled   
Simply to have a basic fucking right to exist

Coming out was like I finally could breathe freely for the first time  
And finding out there were others; like me  
I nearly cried tears of joy  
Because I was not, am not, will not be alone  
Do not think I have not felt the cruel slap of homophobia  
Because I have  
And from the person I least expected

So you want a straight pride?  
Would you like the experiences that come along with it?  
The murders, raids, attacks, concentration camps, and laws made against your very existence?  
Because that is what we have gotten from just living  
We have been rounded up and slaughtered without a single shred of dignity  
Mocked and murdered just because we don’t fit in with society's version of “normal”

But you do  
You always have been   
Have whichever rights fancied you   
Handed in on a silver fucking platter  
Because you have never felt the fear  
The fear we have of being killed for existence 

And you have always asked us to be peaceful  
Despite how much violence we have faced  
So why should we lay down our arms from fighting?  
When we have fought for the last 30, 40, 50 years?  
Caused glass to shatter like stars on the pavement   
And blood to spill like rain

When we have screamed, and demanded  
Fought and died for every single little right we have gained  
And yours have been brought on that silver platter

But you say you are the ones oppressed   
That you’re the ones who are threatened with death  
In reality I think you’re scared  
Scared that for once we are visible  
We are loud, out, and proud  
No longer quiet and hiding in the shadows  
And you are scared

So you clamor for “Straight Pride”  
Try to diminish any efforts we have made  
In the name of progress of not being slaughtered  
Something that you have never had to fight for

So when I say Fuck Your Straight Pride  
I mean it  
I mean it with the force of every single person who has fought, and bled, and cried, and died  
For what we have today, to be possible  
Because Stonewall did not happen for you to diminish our efforts  
Harvey Milk was not elected, and did not die, for you to mock our achievements  
We did not go through centuries of oppression and isolation for you to turn all we have fought for; into a fucking joke

So when I say Fuck Your Straight Pride  
I mean Fuck Your Straight Pride


End file.
